


Sling

by majmu



Series: Blasphemy [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Bodyguard, Broken Bones, Hurt, M/M, Master/Servant, One Shot, Porn, Power Play, cardinals - Freeform, idk if there's any comfort here but my guess is no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 17:38:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21183359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majmu/pseuds/majmu
Summary: "And roll onto your stomach."Kjartan choked."My- sire, my arm-""Better keep your weight off of it with your healthy arm, then."





	Sling

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this instead of doing the Inktober prompt "Sling", because it's the worst prompt in a while and I'd rather write seven pages of porn than draw that shit. But there's a sling here!
> 
> [Erasmus](https://refsheet.net/Namarikonda/erasmus)  
[Kjartan](https://refsheet.net/majmu/Kjartan)

He needed to get it together. Now.

Kjartan was pressing his back against the cold outside wall of the church, counting the seconds until he would have to go in. He couldn't even cradle his broken arm against his chest - the pain radiated through his skull and even into his toes every time he even twitched a finger. The pain was, in a way, familiar. He had gotten the same arm hurt earlier this year, from when a cardinal's soldier roughed him up. But this time it felt much worse, and was definitely broken.

The lingering pain was probably because the first thing he'd done after seeing the unnatural twist in his arm, was to pull it away and straight. Never before had he considered that there existed a pain that could make a man piss himself. He didn’t though, but he understood why some did. 

Kjartan used his sleeve to dry his face, damp from mostly sweat, but also some tears. It was all just salted water in the end. 

Faint pattering spread throughout the garden of graves. Water was falling, cold and needle sharp.

Kjartan stood under the shower enough to have a reason for his shiny under eyes, and pushed into the church. 

-

At the front of the vast building, Erasmus kneeled. Paintings of angels and martyrs surrounded him, and candles burned, undisturbed by Kjartan opening the door on the other end of the red walkway. A stained glass Jesus stared way above Kjartan, forever blissful in its lifelessness. 

_'Today, I will trust you'_, Kjartan thought. He had been here long enough to understand how Erasmus worked. Most of the time, at least. Tonight would be welcomed as a majority night, if God would be so kind. 

The sound of Kjartan's soft soled shoes could barely be heard against the floor, and if he so wished, could fall into a complete silence with the right steps. But he wasn't here to sneak behind his master, not to tickle him with a dagger that he would have to look for a free space on the skin of Erasmus' back. Most of the space had been reserved way before he even met this man. 

Kjartan stood mere meters behind Erasmus, yearning to walk the rest of the way and say _'we need to go, now'_. But they needn't, and thus he didn't. The daggers on the cardinal's back were the armor that gave him a whole church to pray by himself, and at the same time kept him away from harm's way when Kjartan couldn't. Not that there were many moments of the latter. Even with a broken arm, Kjartan was ready to overpower any assassin if it meant no harm would come to his master.

Erasmus prayed, and Kjartan waited. 

"Amen", Erasmus said through the silence.

"Amen", Kjartan whispered.

Erasmus leaned back and rose to his feet, straightening his robes with his back still towards Kjartan. It was a sign of trust that Kjartan had grown to appreciate, even if perhaps to Erasmus it was more about not needing to acknowledge a lesser being.

Erasmus turned around, at first not even looking at Kjartan, but his eyes seemed to draw towards his bodyguard soon enough. He frowned, eyebrow tilted a small bit as if questioning.

"Why do you look like... this?"

Kjartan shook his head a bit, making sure that his damp hair was somewhat in shape and wasn't the cause for Erasmus' question.

"I have a broken arm, Your Eminence. It also rains", Kjartan replied, weariness bleeding into his words.

"_What?_"

Erasmus frowned harder, momentarily, before he smoothed over his expression. His footsteps were impossibly loud compared to Kjartan's when he walked closer, putting his hand out as if Kjartan was going to give a cardinal his badly broken arm, still radiating indescribable amount of pain if he even thought about the arm existing as a part of him.

Kjartan lifted his broken arm, trying to cover how it shook but only managing to lessen it with gritted teeth. Erasmus pulled his sleeve up, stared at the skin over the break, red and purple all over.

"How do you, my bodyguard, who is supposed to be in top shape to protect me, keep getting your arms, which hold your weapons, broken and crushed this often?" Erasmus asked, voice laced with a hysteric sort of annoyance. He grabbed the arm tightly, and Kjartan's eyes bulged while an involuntary scream was dragged from his throat.

Erasmus looked almost startled, as much as a man like he could. He let go with a slight delay, perhaps not wanting to show a reaction directly because of how his bodyguard reacted. He huffed in disdain and touched Kjartan's shoulder instead, turning him to face the long corridor. He walked forward, and Kjartan followed without a pause.

-

"Who and why?"

"Not sure, I was pulled down from horseback before I even reached city limits. Probably someone that knew of your correspondence and how the letters were delivered."

"...Nosy people that don't know how close they are to the fire they play with."

"The letters are safe, though."

"I know that. You're the one delivering them."

-

"Why haven't you tied your arm up, already? It will never heal with how you keep hanging and moving it."

Kjartan scratched the skin on his bare shoulder, trying to distract himself from the pain on the arm itself. He had pulled his hair back in the worst of ties in an effort to stop the strands from sticking to his face. A makeshift sling was draped open on his lap. 

"Well... it _is_ sort of difficult to put a sling on with just one hand in use, I noticed just now", Kjartan said, a careful smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. Erasmus was in his casual clothes and sat behind his table, ink pen scratching the paper with impressive speed. 

"Oh? What will you do about it, then?" Erasmus asked with a neutral tone, not looking up from his writing.

Kjartan shifted his broken arm carefully, looking at Erasmus with mixed feelings. He opened his mouth, then closed it and dampened his lips.

"I might go bother the doctor, even if it is late in the night."

"The doctor went out of town this morning, an important lady giving birth on the countryside. He won't be back until tomorrow evening at the earliest", Erasmus informed, looking up and over the table almost challengingly. 

Kjartan stared at Erasmus for a moment, trying to read his mind and failing as usual. One more leap of faith, then.

"Sire... would you happen to know how to tie a sling, then?"

Erasmus kept up the eye contact, not seeming to be in a rush to answer as the silence stretched between them. 

"Perhaps I would."

Kjartan was slightly surprised by the notion. He looked at the off white fabric on his lap, then at Erasmus. He was still looking back, but after Kjartan's lack of a reply returned to the texts.

-

Kjartan had rised up while Erasmus was writing, but didn't say a thing until his master got up and closed the ink cap.

"Your Eminence."

Erasmus hummed in acknowledgement.

"Sire, would you spare a moment to help me with this... sling."

"Took you a remarkable time to ask, really."

Erasmus moved a few papers on the table, before he walked around it to reach where Kjartan was standing next to the large bed. Erasmus reached out with his hand, and Kjartan didn't give himself enough time to doubt before giving his broken arm to his master, again.

This time Erasmus didn't squeeze it or twist it, and instead took the sling and wrapped it around the arm and behind Kjartan's nape with careful concentration. That didn't stop him from insulting Kjartan while doing it, wondering if the man had ever learned how to fall off a horse without breaking himself in the process. 

"I was going fairly fast."

"For once", Erasmus muttered. 

It took a few beats before Kjartan snorted.

"I thought you've ridiculed me for being _too_ fast, before."

Erasmus grabbed the sling and pushed Kjartan back. Because he knew that the bed was there, Kjartan only hissed from the sudden pain and let himself fall back instead of resisting. His back hit the criminally soft covers of the cardinal's bed. 

Erasmus pressed his knee on the edge of the bed, looming over Kjartan in a somewhat familiar fashion.

"Not even a broken arm can keep your brain from being a bitch in heat. Though my guess is that you might actually enjoy it", Erasmus drawled.

It was a rare occasion, but it seemed that Erasmus was actually the first to get his mind into places that made him aroused. And that, if nothing, made Kjartan's blood boil in spesific places. He wouldn't complain for sure. 

Kjartan breathed heavily, his naked chest showing his reaction to those words in real time. He pushed himself up a bit with his good hand, and moved one leg a bit farther from the other.

"That's what I thought", Erasmus said under his breath, shrugging the light robe from his shoulders and untwining his trousers. It was weird and exhilarating to see - usually it was either Kjartan taking care of the unbuttoning, or him having his back towards Erasmus.

Kjartan lowered himself back down and went to unfasten his own trousers. One handed was much more difficult than with two, but then again it wasn't uncommon for Erasmus to twist his hand back and make him go one handed anyway.

Erasmus grabbed onto Kjartan's trousers and pulled. Kjartan made an aborted sound, the last button still attached. Erasmus made an annoyed sound and reached to unbutton the last one. It was wound up tight from how low the clothing was hanging on Kjartan's hips, and for a moment Kjartan was sure that he'd need to pay a visit to a tailor after this. But Erasmus managed to unbutton the last one and tugged the trousers the rest of the way off, alongside with his shoes. 

Kjartan was starting to get dizzy, which was funny because he was lying flat on his back. So that's what the fainting damsels were all about. What a disturbing thought.

There was an extra level on helplessness at play, because usually Kjartan could put a stop to anything if he truly wanted. He never did, but it was a possibility. But now he would at least hurt himself even worse if he tried anything.

Ignoring the throught, Kjartan hummed in appreciation as Erasmus undressed him of his undergarments. But he felt like he needed to do something. Lying flat on his back was too easy.

"I can't deal with you like this, move closer to the edge", Erasmus huffed and stepped back. His shirt was mostly released from the trousers now that they were open, but he wasn't undressing more than that. Kjartan swallowed down the disappointment and scooted towards the edge.

"And roll onto your stomach."

Kjartan choked.

"My- sire, my arm-"

"Better keep your weight off of it with your healthy arm, then."

Kjartan swallowed and rolled over as carefully as he could, supporting his weight on his elbow. Erasmus walked to the side, hopefully to grab some body oil. Kjartan would be destroyed tonight if that were not the case. 

To his luck, Erasmus wasn't that fond of causing that much pain in relation to how much enjoyment he'd be getting out of this. Without oil? It wouldn't be much. 

Besides, he had other ways to make Kjartan hurt.

When Erasmus draped his body over Kjartan's, there was a moment when Kjartan forgot to breathe. He let his head hang low and a low whine come from his mouth as Erasmus pressed onto, and into him. He felt like he was being undone, pain unraveling him around his body while his mind was thriving from the feeling of Erasmus being so close and hot to the touch.

He felt a hot breath against his ear.

"I've never heard you make a sound like that before."

Kjartan moved his head to the side, fairly certain he'd made all kind of whines and moans during intercourse, especially with Erasmus.

"In the church."

Oh.

Erasmus put more weight on Kjartan's upper back with the next thrust, challenging the one armed support he had protecting his sharply throbbing arm. Kjartan closed his eyes and frowned, trying to grasp at what Erasmus really wanted. Because surely he didn’t want to compromise the healing process of his bodyguard's arm. Right? 

Kjartan accidentally let his stomach come down too much on his arm, and he let out a small breath of pain. Erasmus echoed with his own sigh, and finally bit down on Kjartan's shoulder blade. 

Kjartan hissed, and realized that this was probably it. Him making noise. 

Kjartan was a pretty stoic and non vocal person, but if it got Erasmus off...

Kjartan moaned against his own bicep, pushing back towards Erasmus as the cardinal let go of the skin he'd sunken his teeth into. It stung, and Kjartan wouldn't be surprised if he'd drawn blood.

He felt Erasmus' hair against his back, it having fallen from behind his ears at this point. It was ridiculous that that was the thing that made his stomach flip, while he literally had a part of Erasmus inside of him right now. For a few seconds he imagined rolling around and pulling his master for a kiss, one with minimal amount of breathing and maybe some teeth. He forgot to breathe again, goosebumps traveling on his shoulders.

The need to wrap himself around that body and cover it with kisses, both rough and soft, with something to show that he was the one that was allowed to touch him like this.

But he wasn't.

He gasped and growled when Erasmus pressed him down again, and got a dismissive snort as a reply. The growl stretched into a whine when one particularly harsh push rolled him against his arm.

"Oh God", Kjartan whispered, his supporting arm starting to tremble from the weight and movement. It was hard to enjoy this when one wrong movement, either from feeling good or feeling bad, could make him be in a world of pain.

He focused on being unmoving and receptive, making small sounds of pleasure and pain even if those weren't exactly ripped from him like usual.

When Erasmus leaned up and pulled Kjartan back from his hips, it was pretty clear that Kjartan hadn't been expecting it. He stumbled against his arm, pain so sharp hitting him that he ripped the blanket he'd sunken his fingers into. But he couldn't keep himself up anymore, the radiating pain and riding for hours chipping into his muscles like acid.

Erasmus almost seemed to sense it, thrusting only once before he stopped to listen to Kjartan's heavy and uneven breathing.

"You're weaker than I thought. Turn around, then", Erasmus sighed, stepping back to give Kjartan room to move. At first he didn't, ears ringing and whole body aching from the remnants of too much pain. But then he shifted obediently onto his back. 

He wondered if he should have screamed, for Erasmus. He just felt like killing all nerve endings on his body, now.

When Erasmus lifted one of Kjartan's legs on his shoulder, Kjartan took it all back. A breathless sound left his throat when Erasmus bore down on him, and he grabbed onto the bicep of his broken arm to keep it as unmoving against his chest as possible.

The pain slowly disappeared from the forefront of Kjartan's mind, the sight of Erasmus over him (hair falling over his face, even when he brushed it behind his ear a few times) making familiar pressure start building up in his lower stomach again. He kept his eyes half closed, trying to be less obvious in the way his eyes were glued to the man above him.

Time blurred for a moment, Kjartan too focused on worshipping Erasmus with his stare to pay attention to anything else. Erasmus pushed in one last time, and bit down on Kjartan's knee resting on his shoulder as he came.

Kjartan almost pulled him closer with his leg, but managed to resist the temptation. Instead he relished the few seconds of stillness, before Erasmus pulled back and wordlessly walked off into the bathroom connected to the main room. 

Kjartan didn’t move, not fond of the idea of making a mess in this particular room. The air felt cooler now, especially on his lower half. He let his own arousal melt away, and carefully let go of his bicep.

Soon Erasmus came back, shoes loud against the hard floor. Somehow, Kjartan hadn't even realized he was wearing shoes. A rag flew on his face.

"Get off my bed."

Kjartan obeyed wordlessly, thankful for the rag. He walked off into the bathroom after gathering his clothes over his shoulder, flinching nervously when he heard Erasmus make a disapproving sound. One look behind had Erasmus looking at the ornamental blanket over his bed, probably having found the part that Kjartan ripped.

"You'll be making a trip to the tailor, tomorrow", Erasmus said dryly, unbuttoning his shirt while he eyed his bed with contempt.

"Yes, Your Eminence", Kjartan said quietly, checking his trousers' last button for the damage before he started to dress. 


End file.
